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From Here Until the End

I wrote this once... kinda poetry... kinda gibberish... I don't know, maybe you can relate.

By Tamara GraizPublished 5 years ago 1 min read
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It's 11:05 and I can't seem to stop thinking about all the things I've done wrong. The amount of thinking no more than the average person, but still. My existence has been the whims and woes of times past.

I've danced with two left feet and pranced around on my head with the detached right ones. Can you name the times you've conquered the fortress of unending foes. Never.

Have you ever spoken to the voices in the head of a man tip toeing on the edge of earth. His name is unimportant but his mind is reeling, stealing, peeling.

May I tell you the story of one whose nerves have nerves with in them that only spark when times are dark. I can't speak for the man but time is no friend. Tick, tick, tick...shame, shame, shame. Time is the feudal speech of dead love ones; confidence, joy, peace.

The man is a fortress; a protection from every good thing, every satisfying thing, every source of warmth. Bring your coat for the edge of earth is warmthless, happiless, colorless.

They will question and you should answer.

They will say and you should stay silent.

You will work and they will declare you idle.

You will cry and they will prance with joy.

You will quit beating and they won't act in opposition.

They will laugh in their solidity and you will tremble in your foundations.

Quakes become thin lines between reality and dreams; you will not be able to tell any difference.

Time mourns on and anguish hides away for a short while but pounces at any sign of joy.

God draws close but you push away.

Your life will become a combination of contradictions and constraints.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Tamara Graiz

All I know is that being able to relate to someone else's experiences and feel as though I'm not the only one brings me comfort...so I write hoping that someone out there can find that same comfort in my message

My first piece coming soon

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